The Music of Life
by PlotbunnyChariot
Summary: This is a songfic series is about the music of life. It's about the ups and downs and everything in between; it will involve several different genres, so I'm not going to select any particular ones here. Each chapter is a oneshot based on a different song. K just in case. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**The Music of Life**

**I've seen a couple writers now using a songfic idea where each chapter is based on a song, and I like it so much I decided to give it a try. Couldn't resist. And of course I don't own anything-songs, artists, characters, nothing. This is fanfiction for a reason. So basically, please don't get mad at me! Hope you enjoy and please give me song suggestions/story ideas! I might not do them all but I appreciate the inspiration. :D**

**This first chapter is based on the song "Photograph" by Nickelback.**

A fire illuminated the faces of three Starfleet officers who sat around its warmth. Its flashing light caught the golden hair of one man while bringing out the subtle tones in the brown and black hair of the men by his side. The stars shone brightly above them in the dark violet sky, their constellations spelling out a map of places the three had been to before. Even though they had traversed the vast distances of space many times, the stars still held their wonder for all of them.

James T. Kirk leaned back on the leafy ground and took in a deep breath of the fresh forest scent. He threw his head back and gazed at the stars. "Beautiful out here**, **isn't it?" he commented, his eyes tracing their way through the pinpricks of light.

"Sure is, Jim," Leonard McCoy replied as he stirred the beans that he had just started slow-cooking over their campfire; it was, of course, his family recipe.

Jim glanced up when Spock didn't reply to see the Vulcan totally immersed in the stars. "Lost up there, Spock?"

The Vulcan blinked and came back to them, his brow showing confusion. "Lost, Captain?"

McCoy face-palmed just as Kirk replied, "Spock, for the last time, we're on shore leave. Call me Jim already."

Spock tilted his head a fraction. "As you wish, Jim."

"What is he, a genie?" McCoy muttered under his breath.

"Come again, Doctor?"

"Never mind, Spock. Never mind."

Kirk chuckled at the two as he rummaged around in his bag. McCoy perked up instantly.

"What's that, Jim?"

Kirk dusted off an ancient, leather-bound book. His eyes glimmered as he replied, "Actually, it's my old scrapbook, believe it or not." He looked down, slightly embarrassed, before continuing. "I know I have plenty of photos in electronic storage-even some of these-but there's something to actually holding and touching the book and the photographs themselves that I love. I mean, look at this binding - worn, cracked in some places, but soft to the touch. You can't get that from a computer or a PADD. You never could." He shrugged, looking up at his two best friends again. "I felt nostalgic. Thought you guys wouldn't mind feeling nostalgic with me."

One of Spock's eyebrows went up, but the Vulcan did not comment on the emotional sentence. In fact, he looked more interested than disdainful. McCoy slowly grinned.

"I'll take that as a yes," Kirk chuckled as he opened the book, letting the pages run between his fingers as he did so and enjoying their feathery texture. The two other men came closer to him to get a good view, and he opened the book wide so the firelight would land on its opened space.

"What in the world is that?" McCoy laughed, pointing to an old photo of Kirk as a toddler.

Kirk looked heavenward. "Why did I decide to do this again?" he wondered aloud even as he chuckled at the photo. "That was me, around four years old. I, erm, clearly wanted to be a starship captain at that point."

The picture depicted Kirk, with messy blond bangs hanging in front of his face, standing proudly in front of the camera. A yellow cape fell from his shoulders, and he wore a makeshift version of a Starfleet uniform on his tiny body. At his side a Doberman Pinscher sat with its tongue hanging out, the closest it could get to a happy grin. Behind him, a construction made of what appeared to be some sort of cardboard vaguely resembled a starship, and on its side was painted, sloppily, "U.S.S. Super Jim".

McCoy cracked up at seeing the image close up, and he had to hold his side from the laughter. Spock's eyebrows shot up and his eyes danced as he struggled to keep the laugh bubbling in his chest down. It didn't entirely work.

Kirk's amused eyes misted over as he flipped the pages. "This was my hometown in Iowa," he explained as the other men took in a farm house surrounded by green fields and animals of all kinds. "My brother...he wanted to be a photographer in those days. He took pictures of everything, and I got some of them from him." Both McCoy and Spock pretended not to notice the sudden crack in his deep voice. Photos of all styles and lighting depicted Jim's childhood; everything from doing farm chores the old-fashioned way to crashing new hover-boards to intense snowball fights flew in front of their eyes.

Soon there was a break in the pictures, and suddenly they were in a whole new, edgey style that showed impressive buildings and well-manicured lawns. "The Academy," Jim stated simply as his two best friends watched memories flutter across the pages like an old holo-projector. They'd all been to the school, and individual memories took over each mind as Jim's flashed across the pages.

Everything stopped when they saw the pictures of him with an old friend...Gary Mitchell. Jim's hand froze on the corner of the next page, his skin lit up by the firelight, as his eyes caught sight of the friend who had turned bad. He swallowed and was about to plow on before he felt McCoy's hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Jim," the man murmured under his breath, eyes wise and sorrowful. "It's okay."

Spock froze, feeling Jim's pain deeply within himself as well as his own at the man who, with no control of over the situation, had turned so evil so quickly.

Jim nodded, barely visibly, before moving on. His face soon broke out into a smile as a pretty, blond girl filled the pages of the book.

"Who's that?" McCoy asked as he elbowed Kirk, his voice purposefully light and eager to move on from Mitchell.

"Rebecca," Kirk replied simply as he fondly looked at the pictures. "My first real girlfriend," he added. "We were inseparable at the Academy...but I haven't heard from her in a long time. Maybe I should give her a call."

McCoy rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but notice the genuine quality in Kirk's voice. Maybe he actually meant something good this time.

"It's hard," Jim commented as he stared at the images. "Back then, I was so young...I thought the good times would just go on forever; the moments went so slow back then. But now? Not so much." He sighed as he flipped another page, getting near the end of the scrapbook. "Now I have to worry not only about myself every day, but about the ship and everyone aboard her. They're all my responsibility."

"They're our responsibility too, Jim," McCoy spoke softly as he poked at the dimming fire, hot red sparks twirling up into the air before blinking out. "They're all of ours."

Spock nodded silently, eyes intense and thoughtful in the dimming light. "I see no reason why you have to bear your burden alone, Jim."

After what felt like an eternity of silent understanding among the three friends, the fire was stoked up again and the beans were boiling over it.

"I tell ya, there's nothing like homemade, family-recipe food to soothe the soul," McCoy drawled with a giant grin on his face as he started dishing out the grub.

"I'll eat to that!" Kirk replied as he accepted a hearty helping. "Spock? You eating?" He glanced back to see the Vulcan quickly shoving a PADD back into his backpack. "Spock? What were you doing?"

The Vulcan froze for a heartbeat before trying to shake it off, but unsuccessfully. Kirk reached past him and grabbed the PADD. His shocked face said it all.

"Now look Jim, before you get mad over it, I asked Spock to do it while you were putting your scrapbook away and honestly it's not that big of a deal..."

"You took a PICTURE of the photo of me as a toddler and sent it to Bones's archives on the ship?!" Kirk practically screeched.

Spock looked suspiciously like he was trying to hold back a laugh. McCoy grinned wider at the sight of it.

"Come on, Jim. You know it's hilarious."

**Hope you enjoyed! Review please and happy writing and reading to all of you! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**More Beautiful You**

"Yeah? Well _you _look uglier than a -"

"Christine, stop," Spock whispered in her ear as he tugged her away from the scene. She struggled the whole way, but he was far stronger than she was - even as furious as she currently happened to be. She tried hurling more insults at the spiteful alien behind them, but fortunately for both of them they didn't have much effect. The touch-telepath was secretly glad for the long-sleeved shirt she was wearing that prevented him from receiving any more of her projected emotions than he already was. While he was able to cope quite well with his telepathic abilities, even more so since being with Christine, it didn't take a telepath to know the thoughts and emotions going through her mind - much less the things that made it past her throat. He didn't particularly want to feel or hear more than what was necessary.

"You do not need this fight," Spock practically hissed under his breath as he managed to get her outside. Fortunately for them, the alien didn't seem interested in following. The fresh night air of the shore leave planet was breathtaking, and they paused for a moment as a cold breeze whipped through their hair. Christine breathed deeply, trying to get over her anger and frustration.

"I'm sorry, Spock," she managed to get out. "I know you don't like it when I lose my temper. But that jerk just infuriated me so much..."

Spock gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Christine, what she said was not only irrelevant but also blatantly false. You have nothing to be upset over." His tone implied that he was a bit confused why Christine was paying such attention to the creature. Undoubtedly, what the alien had said was harsh, but it was also clearly false and merely meant as a bait for Christine. They were not here to start a fight. Jim had expressly ordered all those going down for shore leave not to interfere with the workings of the space dock. There were some tense situations in Starfleet right now, and no one needed any overkill. Spock might have reacted differently to the insults in another set of circumstances, but for right now he saw little objective need to start a fight over the incident.

Christine shook her head. "That's what you think," she muttered under her breath.

Spock tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Christine sighed and rubbed her arms as she glanced up at the man standing by her. "I just...I hate it when people are like that. I hate it when they bully you and say you're ugly or weird or stupid just for the sick twisted fun of it. It just makes me feel so..." her breath caught on her throat, "insecure. Even when I know they're wrong. I don't exactly like the feeling," she added with a bitter, half-hearted laugh.

Her gaze fluttered down and she kept it on the ground, as if she thought that its constant presence might steady her. She didn't like baring herself so open like that; she was the self-proclaimed Iron Nurse, after all, not someone who backed down from a fight. And certainly not someone who felt insecure at the occasional rough comment from a random alien.

Spock could not stop the feeling of momentary shock that came with her little confession. He of course knew that she could be insecure, like anyone else, but for her to admit it like this was quite another thing. He understood that perfectly. A soft light entered his eyes at the trust he realized was held in her words, and harsh memories of his own past instantly helped him see the situation through her eyes. He decided he no longer really cared about what negative emotions he might feel through her in physical contact. He wanted to be there for her always - no matter what she was feeling.

And especially when she was feeling hurt.

Christine felt a hand gentle cup her face, and she looked up to see Spock's warm, concerned eyes gazing at hers. "Christine," he spoke quietly, "I do not want you to listen to such people. While I cannot understand why people insist on mistreating you, I do know that they are wrong. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out."

A tear slid out of one of her eyes, and Spock silently brushed it aside with his thumb. "I never want you to try to be someone you are not. I could not imagine you a more wonderful person than you already are."

She sniffed, sparkling tears resting on her eyelashes and blinking down her face. "Thank you, Spock," she whispered, unwilling to take her eyes from his.

They gently kissed, and Christine forgot the insults she had saved for the alien who had mocked her. People were going to be jerks, that much was clear. But with Spock at her side, Christine knew that she would make it through. Spock thought she was beautiful, and that was all she really cared about. Maybe, just maybe, she could begin to see things his way, too.

**Aaaannnnd if there was _ever_ a doubt in your mind, you now know how much I love shipping Christine and Spock. This chapter is based off the song "More Beautiful You" by Jonny Diaz (you should go listen; it's an awesome song). I own nothing. Blah blah blah.**

**Also, since I'm paranoid and am unsure whether it's common fandom stuff or not, I just wanted to say that the whole touch-telepaths-feel-emotions-through-physical-con tact thing was something I read in fan fiction. So I didn't come up with it. So...I'm not trying to steal anything here. Disclaimer. Yaaaay. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and my apologies for getting it out so late. You know how these things happen. I actually meant to do another chapter before this, but this is done and short and I haven't updated in ages, so...yeah. Here it is. Not like it's in a chronological order anyway, right? :D Please leave a review and perhaps a suggestion, song/plot/character(s) wise, everything is great and incredibly appreciated!**

**No, seriously. See that little review box down there? It's lonely. And sad. It would be really happy if you left a review in it. Like, making-a-snow-angel-in-Tribbles happy. ;)**


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